The Doctor's Tears
by The Ghostly Horse
Summary: The Doctor has saved the Universe, but lost Donna. The price is a costly one, and he suffers the effects long after she's gone. Insight into the Doctor's life while travelling alone. Set after 'Journey's End' and before 'The End Of Time'. Series of one-shots. Suggestions welcome. Please review.
1. Breaking Down

**I know this is ridiculously short, but I thought some may enjoy this piece of agony. Suggestions are always welcome. Please read &amp; review.**

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_Set after the Doctor has returned Donna home and has just lost his best friend at the cost of saving the world, or rather, the Universe. He decides that he cannot face finding another companion, only to lose them again, breaking his already shattered hearts._

The Doctor was alone. He had always been alone, since he had ended the Time War, but never had he felt as truly isolated as he did now. Rose, Martha, and now Donna. Surprisingly, the loss of Donna stung the worst, more even than knowing he would never see Rose again. She had been the one to make him realise that any life saved amidst slaughter was worth the price of being present. She had shown him that even though he had lost a family, it didn't mean he was exempt from forming a new one. She had not shied away from the Universe, instead she had remained steadfastly _human_, trying pointlessly to put it back in its place. She had pulled him back from the edge so many times, and hadn't even known. Now she never would. Maybe it wasn't surprising that he missed Donna most after all.

_Doctor?_ He looked up, searching the dim TARDIS for something. _Doctor, where are you?_ He froze, recognising the unmistakable voice. _I promised that I'd travel with you forever. _Tears stung the Doctor's eyes, and he stopped searching for a body to put the words to. _I wanted to see the Universe._ She wasn't there, she could never be there again. _Oi, are you listening to me Spaceman?!_ A sob forced its way out of his throat. No one else would think to call him that. _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry._ Finally, he couldn't take it anymore, and the tears streamed down him face, and the sobs racked his thin frame. _A tall streak of alien nothing, you are._ He leaned against the central pillar, trying to pull himself together without success, as the memories kept on coming.


	2. The Waking World

_Donna laughed in exhilaration as she stood on the edge of a towering cliff. Perhaps 'the edge' was not an accurate description, seeing as there was at least two metres between her and the giant drop into a swirling whirlpool of lilac water. She was still enjoying herself though, and if anyone asked, she had stepped all the way out._

_He had no fear of falling, and his unusually bare feet were inches from the edge, despite Donna's slightly frantic warning that he would fall, and she'd be stuck on this wondrous planet all by herself. He laughed and flung out his arms, his long trench coat flapping in the wind caused by the turbulent water below. Donna gasped in alarm as he was buffeted forwards and back, sometimes seeming to almost fall. Eventually he stepped away and returned to Donna's side, smiling down at her, ginger hair flying into her face before shifting to stream behind her, and back again._

_He'd wanted to show her this planet for a long time, and he was so glad that he'd finally made the trip. Tapping her softly, he drew her attention from the auburn sky and led her down a path, winding their way down, heading towards the base of the cliff. There was something he wanted to show her before they got there though, and halfway down the track, he left the path, parting the gold and teal leaves for them both. Donna asked where they were going, but the Doctor simply smiled and kept walking, enjoying the feel of the soft grass, or what Donna would call grass, between his toes._

_"Where are we going Doctor? C'mon, tell me!" Again, he turned to smile another mysterious smile at his outspoken companion, but could not find her when he looked. His smile dropped and he froze, searching the surrounding area frantically. It wasn't heavily populated with shrubbery, and there was nowhere Donna could've ducked in time._

"Donna!"

_He retraced his steps quickly, trying to look ahead, behind, left and right at the same time. This wasn't a dangerous planet, and there was no dominant species, rather all coexisting in relative harmony. He burst back onto the main path and stopped, panic taking over. _Something wasn't right. _He looked down at his feet, realising that he now had shoes, but how did they get there? _It's not real._ He blinked and looked again, no shoes to be seen. Making a snap decision, the Doctor continued down the path, hurtling around corners, nearly tripping on the vines that were suddenly covering the ground. _This didn't happen.

_As he ran, the scenery shifted around him, seeming to flux, as if not sure of what it should look like. The path straightened and tilted downwards, and he had to sprint to avoid falling flat on his face. Where was she? _She's not here. She never was._ She was just behind him, he knew she had been. A thought was tugging at him, but he shoved it aside, concern for Donna taking over. _It's a dream, that's all. A dream. _Had he been here before? The events unfolding seemed eerily familiar, but that wasn't right, was it? He'd never taken her here before, and if he had, she hadn't disappeared. _Wake up._ That voice was back, and it was making itself known._

"Wake up!"

The Doctor jolted awake, sitting upright in his thin bed. Sweat trickled down his back and face, hearts beating erratically. He'd had a bad dream, that was all. Already he could feel it fading, the details foggy and limp. He struggled to remember what it had been about, despite the more rational part of his brain telling him he didn't want to know. His eyes searched the room around him, hoping that something would catch his focus. A vase of common flowers caught his eye and his dream came flooding back, with too much force.

Donna. Of course it was Donna. He'd taken her to a planet, lilac water, gold plants, grass that was not grass…

Except he'd never taken her. He'd always meant to but somehow had never quite gotten to it. She would've loved it. _I was gonna see the stars_. But now she never would, not close up anyway, only from afar. The Doctor hung his head as he tried to push back the guilt and painful memories, face no longer damp from sweat, yet glistening all the same.


	3. At War

The Doctor was at war with himself. Not that it was a new development, but this time it was different. Or was it? He spent too much time thinking or not enough; there had never been an in-between.

Sometimes he wondered if that wasn't why he tried to avoid travelling alone, besides having someone to share the adventure with, his companions had always sought to balance his erratic thought patterns. He'd lost many friends along the way, some voluntarily, like when his granddaughter wanted to give normal life a go, some with no say in the matter, the whole parallel world dilemma with Rose – even if she did have a duplicate to live life with – and some, not many, but too many all the same, had died for or because of him.

Therein lay the problem. The Doctor remembered all his companions, whether or not he spoke about them, there were all there, in his head. That was something that very few who travelled in the TARDIS understood; that there had been others. Of course there had been. He was over 900 years old. It didn't mean that any of them were unimportant, or didn't take a piece of one of his hearts when they inevitably left, but few had ever understood that. Donna had known. From the beginning, since the first time she had unexpectedly appeared in the Old Girl, when he was still mourning the loss of Rose.

For so long the Doctor had thought himself exempt from feelings of warmth, friendship, love even. Rose proved him wrong on all counts, but what he found most heart warming of all had been her simple acceptance. Acceptance of him, his style of life, and his story. When he'd regenerated, of course she'd been dubious about what had happened, but far more quickly than he'd anticipated, she'd accepted him again. But when she'd met Sarah-Jane Smith – it had been good to see her again – it became clear that she'd thought herself as a one-off. The thought of other companions, other _women_ travelling with the Doctor has never occurred to her. Not that she could be blamed, but still.

Martha had been both better and worse than Rose. He knew that he'd destroyed her life, and was thankful that she'd has the sense to 'get out' as she put it. Her job as a doctor meant that she was dedicated to saving everyone she could, regardless of the circumstances. Hell, she'd done a better job than he ever had. She knew about Rose, but only because he'd thoughtlessly rubbed it in her face. She had endured so much for him, and he'd barely even stopped to thank her for it, downplaying everything she ever did. That was what he regretted most about his time with the brilliant Martha Jones.

Captain Jack Harkness was a one-of-a-kind guy and the Doctor was truly grateful that they'd met, unconventional as it had been. He had even been willing to ignore the distinct discomfort he experienced whenever Jack was around. The Captain had also understood that he was not the first, and while being the last had not been out of the question, he too had chosen to part ways. Jack was fun, but was also acutely aware of the danger the Doctor often placed his companions in, yet had never judged the Doctor for what was in his nature.

There were many, each as important as those before them. No, the Doctor never forgot his companions, but talking about them brought back painful memories of times that could never be relived. His past companions has also taught him something; that sometimes it was enough that they thought they were the only ones, special for all the wrong reasons. Every time he lost another, they all flashed before his eyes, and he had to struggle to hold himself together. The truth was; they all broke his hearts, over and over again. Some days he didn't think that there was any left to be torn again, and still his friends took small shards, splintering what remained.

All of his companions had been different, wonderfully different, but Donna had been something else. She still was awed by the thought of a Time Machine, she still gaped in amazement at all the wonderful places he'd taken her. But she never lost her stubborn, immovable view as a human being. If she thought the Doctor had done something out of line, she made sure he knew about it. She wasn't interested so much in what his past had been, only that she was going to be a huge piece of his future. And she has been. Except she would never know that.

Donna Noble, the most important woman in the Universe. Human. Best temp in Chiswick. The Doctor's best friend. Sure, she had her moments, and she had been downright annoying a lot of the time, but she was golden. Irreplaceable. Perhaps most of all, she balanced him perfectly. Light-hearted when he was preoccupied with things he couldn't change, logical when he was too blind to see the obvious truth.

By all the stars in the Universe, did he miss her.


End file.
